Senior Moments
by Temperann
Summary: The world they've known for so long is gone forever. In the new world they now find themselves in, they must adapt or perish at last.


The Dark Lord had been vanquished. All his minions had been tracked down and were either: 1. Dead or 2. On holiday at Azkaban. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. As with all statements in the world, there are exceptions for the privileged. Being a Malfoy and filthy rich, I am counted as one of the fortunate few _exceptions_.

While all my old acquaintances were either rotting away six feet underground or in the well-furnished, six star hotel Azkaban, I was repenting away in my lovely home, Malfoy Manor with my lovely grieving wife and my lovely confused, traumatized son. It was quite a joyous time indeed.

We all kept to our little private areas – me in my study, Narcissa in one of the many sitting rooms and Draco in the library – and met daily in the gardens for lunch. We would arrive at precisely 1 o'clock for the meal and our house elves would lay out the dishes. Then, we would begin eating, silently, meticulously, neatly and solemnly. After every crumb was consumed, we would stand up, bid each other a good day in a most polite manner, and dismiss ourselves to wherever.

The routine was the same. Nothing interrupted it; not even the time when Narcissa broke down in tears out of the blue, or when Draco woke up the whole of England with his screams during the night or when I suddenly had a relapse and grew jumpy, thinking the Dark Lord was still in residence.

No, nothing ever changed in our daily lives. The only variation was the odd social event for which attendance was mandatory in keeping our living standards where they were. And of course the odd outing we would have together, or separately. It wasn't because we were antisocial; it was the fact that with so many of our old acquaintances on vacation or caught up in very busy schedules, house visit and appointments were extremely hard to make.

Going out into the public streets was an option, but not one we wanted to take. Though we were not found guilty and jailed, many were suspicious of us and feared us. Sometimes I forget our humbling position and stride too confidently, or maybe my lip curls slightly as a muggleborn so happens to be in my immediate vicinity; these are offences that cause me great trouble. People walking pass watch us like hawks and I could not help but think that our every gesture was scrutinized for hidden motives.

The dangerous times had passed, but so soon after the war, people were still afraid.

I grew to hate all expeditions outside the Manor; loathing the fact that such visits were necessary and vital for all of our survival. The only place we were not met by judgement and loathing were within the very walls we had been imprisoned in only three years ago. In our home, we were safe from outside forces, but not from our memories. Though the Dark Lord may be fading from many memories, it was still very fresh in ours; and our willing imprisonment was bittersweet.

However, the one person that was always willing to be paid a visit was Severus; and he was the only old acquaintance I still met with occasionally. Our friendship had changed, of course, with the war and the many discoveries made at the end of it. The time he spent in the old fool's service was still a tender topic between us, but we had no trouble in falling back into the old comradeship of the post-Hogwarts days.

And so it was that on one of these fine post-war days, I found myself strolling on a public street, happily recounting the events of my wonderful life. The glares and the whisperings faded into the background as I strove to think positively for this one day. The sun was out for once, and so was I. It was a day worth enjoying, if only for however long my good temper lasted.

The bookshop was my destination today, and I entered it purposefully. There were very few books the Manor did not have a copy of, but once in a while a worthwhile book could be found.

Remembering Severus' upcoming birthday, I headed over to the Potions section, hoping for a book that neither of us had in our extensive collection. There were many new titles since my last visit, though they were the usual rewrites, updated texts and collection of controversial ideas. It seemed that the Potions community was so small and lacking that, of the small portion that wrote at all, an even smaller portion came up with anything useful.

I really didn't know why I was bothering to – wait, was that -?

A tall man in black robes had stepped into the shop with a young woman in red. Having always seen Severus travelling by himself, I found myself having to look once more for confirmation that the man was indeed Severus.

By which time, of course, my hair had already given away my identity and location; Severus and his companion were heading towards me, his companion less willingly than he. I took a few steps forward and plastered a slight smile upon my face before greeting them.

"Ahh...Severus, my old friend. I trust you have been well?"

An odd twinkle reminiscent of the old fool was in his eyes as he stared at me.

"Of course."

It seemed he wasn't looking for a conversation today (or maybe he just knew I would attempt to have one with him, and sought to annoy me). But to leave now, so soon after a greeting, would be impolite of me.

Malfoys were not impolite.

My eyes flickered about for inspiration – and they found it; Severus had not come alone and his choice of companion was somewhat...surprising, to say the least.

As I contemplated on a sentence which would **not** include an insult of some kind, Severus spoke up, seeming to have taken pity on my determination in being polite.

"Miss Granger, I don't think you've met Lucius before?"

Untrue. Ridiculous. Laughable, even, in its incredibility. We must have met countless times before, the first in these very premises, and the latest...well, upon the battlefield. But then, none of these were particularly amicable meetings and bringing animosity to the conversation now would definitely not be agreeable.

Thought he would often choose to be rude, Severus was not tactless – a fact I was most grateful for.

"A pleasure, Mr Malfoy."

A twitch of the lips (was it a smile...?) and a tentative handshake.

"Likewise."

I gave her a smile. Well, if I was going to play the polite game, might as well go all the way, right?

She seemed quite uncomfortable in my company...in fact, I could even call it...nervous. Her eyes darted from me, the door, their (would-be) purchases, and then back to me.

Severus rolled his eyes at the behaviour she was exhibiting. A lull in the conversation (did this even qualify as one?) had taken place, and in normal situations, manners dictated that either Miss Granger, or I, had to fill the silences with something. Anything. Preferably something that could continue on to be a polite conversation. And not insult anyone present.

I was waiting for her, and Severus was waiting for one of us to speak.

I waited with an expectant look in my eyes and a polite expression upon my face. Patience was my middle name (one of them, I would expect) and no Malfoy possessed frustration in public. I could wait until all the ice in the world was melted, and all the animals extinct...

"Miss Granger is conducting some research on curses, and requested my assistance. I promised her a trip to the local bookstore for a suitable source of information."

Severus had always been impatience. It was the one thing I knew I would always have the upper hand in. The patience concept had never really appealed to him, and he had never shown patience in my 'little polite doodahs', as he calls it.

"How fascinating, Miss Granger. Ministry work, I presume?"

Her lack of response was starting to get to me. Hopefully, she would respond was something more than 'Yes, it is.' That would be rather constructive to the conversation.

Her attention had returned with the mention of her name, but it seemed she was quite unwilling to contribute. This was getting rather ridiculous. I met Severus' gaze; he rolled his eyes at me, and nodded. Good old Sev. I knew he would gang up with me to bully Miss Granger into a _proper _response.

Both of us turned and looked at her rather pointedly. She blushed slightly, and _finally_ decided to grace us with her voice.

"Yes, it is."

Ugh.


End file.
